


Something Sweet

by carsonphillips



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Epikegster, Jack Zimmermann's Overdose, M/M, soulmate-identifying smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carsonphillips/pseuds/carsonphillips
Summary: When the media asks Kent what he was feeling as Mrs. Durand drove him to the Colisée Financière Sun Life for his first day with the Rimouski Océanic, he feeds them a cocktail of emotions: excitement, nervousness, and determination all at once. He isn’t lying—he was feeling those things—but his feelings were pushed to the back of his mind in favor of the Smell. The closer he got to the rink, the more detail he could pick up: freshly mown grass, fir, birch, lilac, and upon stepping into the rink, Kent swears he can smell maple syrup.





	Something Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [entirely_too_tall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/entirely_too_tall/gifts).



> whew! this was only supposed to be like 3-4k, but then... it's also supposed to be a patater fic, but then i accidentally wrote pimms for 4k words? oops. anyway!! this was written for entirely_too_tall's third prompt: Soulmate AU where you identify your soulmate by the Soulmate Smell. kinda took some liberties, mainly that people can have multiple soulmates/it's not exactly fixed. 
> 
> also, content warnings for jack's OD and canon meanness at epikegster.
> 
> thanks to yourealliwant/bitsbaby for beta'ing, and irlkent/daydoodles for worldbuilding advice! please point out typos though, i ran pretty close to the deadline, so there's a good chance i've missed something.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

When the media asks Kent what he was feeling as Mrs. Durand drove him to the Colisée Financière Sun Life for his first day with the Rimouski Océanic, he feeds them a cocktail of emotions: excitement, nervousness, and determination all at once. He isn’t lying—he was feeling those things—but his feelings were pushed to the back of his mind in favor of the Smell. The closer he got to the rink, the more detail he could pick up: freshly mown grass, fir, birch, lilac, and upon stepping into the rink, Kent swears he can smell maple syrup.

 

The Smell isn’t as strong as he’d expected. Every story about soulmates meeting described the Smell as overwhelming, almost as potent as smelling salts. The Smell doesn't seem to be quite as strong as that, but Kent shrugs it off; maybe his soulmate isn't in the rink as he'd first thought, but somewhere nearby. Whatever the case, he'll meet them eventually. At the moment, he needs to focus on the task at hand: play his best hockey during development camp and secure a spot on the roster.

 

His plan to ignore the Smell until he was sure he'd met his soulmate is nearly abandoned when he walks up to the group of prospects. Rather than the Smell fading as he got deeper into the rink like he'd expected, it's gotten stronger, which disproves his theory of his soulmate not being on the team with him. _Well, this complicates things,_ he thinks.

 

As practice wears on, Kent narrows down which of his potential teammates might be his soulmate. He tries to pay attention to how the Smell changes in strength as he's paired up with different linemates, but he really can't afford to mess up a play and risk not being on the same team at all.

 

After practice, as Kent's starting to pull off his pads, he gets a strong whiff of the Smell and looks up to see Jack Zimmermann sitting down in the stall next to him. Cliche as it may be, he just _knows_. Zimmermann is definitely his soulmate, which is both relieving and intimidating in equal measures.

 

He's good looking, just like a younger (and chubbier) Bad Bob Zimmermann, for one thing, but on the other hand, Kent doesn't think he's heard him speak more than three words that weren't about hockey? Kent's got to commend him on his ability to focus, but seriously? Even Santa (as the boys had quickly nicknamed Santora), who is pretty quiet and focused, had talked about his billet family during warm-ups.

 

If Kent had been paying more attention on the drive to the rink, he would have heard Mrs. Durand tell him about the other boy they were billeting, a forward named Jack. Jack had gotten a ride to the rink from Mr. Durand about half an hour before Kent had woken up, and since he’d been exhausted when he’d arrived at the Durands’ the previous night, they hadn’t met. If he had been paying more attention, he might have put together the fact that the Jack the Durands were billeting and the Jack sitting next to him were the same person.

 

But because he hadn’t been paying attention, Kent nearly jumps out of his skin when Jack speaks. “You about ready to go? Mrs. Durand’s waiting for us.”

 

“Uh, what?” Kent asks eloquently, looking up to see Jack standing, his hockey bag on his shoulder.

 

Jack frowns. "You're the other guy they're billeting, right? Mrs. Durand said you'd gotten in late and you were still sleeping when I left this morning."

 

"Right. Yeah. I'll just..." Kent gestures to his things. He's mostly ready, but he'd gotten distracted by Jack and the Smell.

 

Jack nods and heads out of the locker room, presumably to wait in the hallway. Kent takes a moment to center himself. Though the Smell isn't as strong as everyone says, it still takes some getting used to, especially when he's expected to talk to his soulmate like a normal, functioning human being. He's not sure how Jack manages to sound so normal (albeit somewhat robotic).

 

When he steps into the hallway, he finds Jack waiting as expected, and follows him out into the parking lot to go back to the billet house. It should be awkward, as neither of them say anything, but somehow it's a comfortable silence. At the very least, it allows Kent to breathe in Jack's Scent without sounding like a complete idiot.

 

*****

 

As time passes, Kent gets used to the busy schedule that is life in the Q: school, homework, practice, and games, with hardly anytime to spend socializing with his teammates outside of practice. He and Jack are enrolled at the same high school, which gives them non-hockey things to talk about. Kent is surprised to find that he actually enjoys his math class, and Jack seems interested in their history class.

 

Maybe it's just because they live together, but Kent and Jack become close. Out of the entire team, he's the one Kent spends the most time with, and Kent likes him the best. Of course it helps that they've discovered how well they work together on the ice— within a month of the season opener, Coach Dawes nearly always places them on the same line, and they start more often than not.

 

Jack is incredible on the ice, though Kent never really expected anything else (he _is_ Bad Bob's son after all), but it seems like he plays even better with Kent on his wing. Similarly, Kent plays his best hockey with Jack as his center. From time to time, Kent wonders if they're only playing well together because they're soulmates, but whether or not that's the case, he's just glad that he gets to play hockey with some of the best players in the QMJHL.

 

By the end of the 2007-2008 season, they've patented what the media seems to call the Zimmermann-Parson No-Look One-Timer, and he's already seen articles speculating on if they'll be first and second in the 2009 draft. Everything seems perfect, except…

 

Jack hasn't said a word about being Kent's soulmate. Surely it should have come up after nearly a year of knowing each other, but it hasn't. Kent's afraid to breach the subject first in case Jack doesn't feel the same way, but it hasn't stopped him from developing feelings for him.

 

Jack may seem like a hockey robot most of the time, but off the ice, like when they're playing MarioKart in the Durands' basement, Kent sees another side of him. Jack is funny, compassionate, and perhaps most surprisingly, he isn't afraid to lose when he's not playing hockey. He always seems to sense when Kent gets frustrated in MarioKart and lets him win a few rounds without making it obvious that's what he's doing. It's times like these that Kent is sure that Jack knows he knows they're soulmates. It just doesn't seem like something a friend would do for another, especially hockey bros, who are usually pretty competitive.

 

The summer changes things. They both go back to their respective homes for the off-season, and Kent isn’t expecting to stay in touch. Jack doesn’t text much, in fact, Kent didn’t even know he _had_ a phone until he’d handed over an ancient Samsung and asked for Kent’s number so they could “send SMS messages sometimes, eh” one day after practice. He can count on one hand the number of texts he’s gotten from Jack up until this point, so it’s surprising when his phone dings with a new text from Jack: _When are you getting back to Rimouski for training camp_.

 

 _the 5th, i think_ , Kent sends back, frowning slightly and wondering why Jack wants to know. They're both staying at the Durands' again this season, so they'll see each other soon enough since they need to be back by the 7th anyways.

 

There's no response, so he shrugs and turns back to the TV, where he'd convinced Sophie to let him watch tape instead of watching one of her kid shows with her. The deal wasn't without its consequences, however: he'd promised to do her chores for a week in exchange. He doesn't tell her that he treasures seeing his little sister smile almost as much as she enjoys not doing her chores.

 

He feels bad for leaving home, but he couldn't pass up the chance to play in the Q. He talks to his mom almost weekly during the season, but Sophie is only 11; she doesn't quite get why he has to leave for most of the year.

 

Another ding distracts him from his thoughts: _We should hang out_ , Jack's sent back.

 

Kent rolls his eyes. _we have the same billet family asshole, of course we'll hang out_.

 

He's not sure if he should really be calling his soulmate an asshole, but they chirp each other all the time, so hopefully Jack won't take it the wrong way.

 

This time, he gets a response almost immediately: _Alone, I mean_.

 

Kent almost drops his phone and decides he's watched enough tape for the day. He stands somewhat shakily and heads back to his room after shutting the TV off.

 

It isn't surprising that Jack wants to hang out alone, exactly—they do that all the time— but what is surprising is that Jack had specified. It means that Jack must want to to do something with Kent that he wouldn't feel comfortable doing in front of the Durands or their kids. Jack may be oblivious at times, but surely he's not so oblivious that he didn't know what Kent would be picturing when he'd said he wants to hang out alone, right?

 

He sends Jack a quick _ok_ before lying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling until dinner.

 

*****

 

Kent arrives at the Durands' first, which surprises him given what happened at the start of the previous season. Kent almost wishes Jack had gotten there first, if only so that he wouldn't be as on edge as he waits for Jack to arrive. He told him he'd get to Rimouski the same day as Kent, but since Kent gets there mid-morning, there's a long time during which Jack could get there.

 

Luckily, Kent is able to prepare himself somewhat for Jack's arrival because he can Smell him as his taxi gets closer to the house. He breathes in Jack's now familiar Scent, and furrows his brows. He still recognizes it as Jack's Scent, but it's changed ever so slightly. While the original Smell is still there, it's as if it's been dampened and overlaid with a bitter, chemical smell. It's a different change than when Jack has been drinking, but whatever it is, Kent gets the feeling he shouldn't ask. Maybe it's just a vitamin supplement.

 

Kent doesn't know what to do when Jack brings his stuff up to their shared room. They're still friends, obviously, but something changed ever since Jack had mentioned spending time alone.

 

"Kenny! I missed you this summer," Jack says, a rare, blinding smile on his face. Kent's heart skips a beat.

 

"I, uh, missed you too, man," he replies, and steps into Jack's outstretched arms.

 

After they pull apart, Jack grows serious, talking about his thoughts on their team this year. What did Kent think of Bazarov? Whittaker? And did he think that Atkins was a fast enough forward to—

 

"Hey, Zimms, listen," Kent interrupts, "you know I love talking hockey with you, but uh. Kinda been wondering why you wanted to hang out alone when we got back?"

 

Zimms' face, which had been animated as he talked about the Océanic's latest prospects, grows unreadable. After a moment of silence, Kent mentally crosses his fingers and leans into a kiss. Zimms doesn't react for a moment, but then he's kissing back, and Kent almost forgets about the chemical layer on top of Zimms' Scent and everything is _wonderful_.

 

It stays wonderful throughout the season, but looking back on it, Kent should have known that nothing lasts forever.

 

*****

 

After they win the Memorial Cup, Kent feels like he's on top of the world alongside Zimms. They're Zimms and Parse, Zimmermann and Parson, Captain and Alternate, and they're all but confirmed to go first and second in the Draft.

 

As the Draft nears, however, Zimms' mood seems to fall further and further. His Scent grows more and more chemical, and Kent grows worried. He tries to bring it up with him, but he can never seem to get the words out. How does one talk to their soulmate about mental illness and substance abuse without making it worse? He tries to reassure Zimms that of course he'll go first, and Bad Bob will be proud no matter what the outcome. It helps, for a time, or at least it seems to.

 

After what seems like the hundredth time they have this conversation, on the eve of the Draft, Kent becomes frustrated. The conversation is going in circles, and he's pretty sure Zimms is on the brink of a panic attack, but nothing he's saying seems to be helping. He's not proud of it, but he loses his temper.

 

"Look, Jack, I don't know what else I can say, okay? Of course you'll go first, you're amazing, you're Jack Zimmermann! But I'm tired of telling you again and again if you're never gonna believe me." He begins pacing around their hotel room, not daring to look Zimms in the eyes. When he doesn't say anything, Kent continues, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper, "Sometimes I wish we weren't in the same Draft year. Then maybe I could go first too."

 

This is the wrong thing to say, apparently. Jack stands up silently and goes to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Kent sighs, running his hand through his hair and making it even messier than usual. He decides to take a walk around the hotel, hoping to cool down and find a way to make Zimms feel better.

 

When he comes back, the first thing he notices is that the bathroom door is still closed. The second is that Zimms' Scent is almost unnoticeable.

 

"Shit," he mutters, "shit, shit, shit— Zimms?"

 

No reply. He walks to the bathroom in long strides, hoping beyond hope that his fears are unfounded, but when he opens the door, his heart drops to his stomach. Jack is lying on the floor of the bathroom, face down, and his pills are spilled out across the tile. He calls 911.

 

*****

 

Kent doesn't even want to look at the pictures from the Draft after he gets back to the hotel that night. He'd gone first, yes, but he's not sure that his media grin was enough to hide the way that it didn't quite reach his eyes. Hopefully, the dark circles under his eyes would make people think that he had been too excited to sleep the night before and that they wouldn't realize that he'd really spent his night at the hospital until Bad Bob and Alicia had persuaded him to go back to the hotel and get some sleep. He hadn't managed to get more than an hour. Almost losing your soulmate will do that to a person.

 

Hopefully signing with the Aces will give him enough to do so that he can keep Jack out of his mind for a few months while he's in rehab. Then maybe he can call him and apologize. Kent can't help but think that if he'd just comforted Jack better... If he'd called his parents instead of trying to help him by himself... He shakes that thought out of his mind as he boards the plane to Vegas. Everything will work out, he tells himself. Jack is his soulmate, after all; they won't be out of each other's lives forever.

 

*****

 

During his sixth season in the NHL, Kent is starting to lose faith that he and Jack will ever speak again, let alone get back together. Sure, he saw him a few years ago after the Aces' 2012 Cup win, but that visit hadn't gone very well.

 

It's not like he'd brought the Cup with him to Samwell, but he'd seen on Facebook that the hockey frat was having a party the night after the Aces played in Boston, so he'd figured he'd stop by. Jack had been angry and defensive, which Kent still thinks had been uncalled for; he'd only wanted to share the victory with his soulmate.

 

They haven't spoken since then. In fact, the last contact Kent has received from Jack was a short text from after they'd won the Cup: _Congrats on the Cup_. Kent thinks another visit is warranted now, especially since Jack seems to be on the verge of signing. If he can just convince him to come to Vegas, they can play on the same line again, they can get back together, and everything will be perfect.

 

As he slips into the frat house (haus?), his first instinct is to think that Jack isn't there at all. He can Smell him (and he's pleased to note no chemical overlay masking the Scent), but it's significantly fainter than it was before Jack's OD. Back in 2012, though it was a little hard to remember, Kent is sure that it had been pretty close to its normal strength.

 

Upon closer inspection of the crowd, however, he does manage to spot Jack standing near the stairs, leaning into a short blond boy Kent doesn't recognize. Kent frowns, but before he can make his way over to Jack and the mystery boy, he's surrounded by party-goers who seem to have recognized him.

 

After he takes about a dozen photos too many, he squeezes through the crowd and stands in front of Jack and his friend, who appear to be taking a selfie. Kent takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure.

 

"I wouldn't believe it if I weren't seeing it myself. Jack Zimmermann. At a party. _Taking a selfie._ "

 

Jack turns around, looking far less pleased to see him than Kent would have liked.

 

"Kent."

 

"Hey, Zimms. Didja miss me?" Kent tries for casual, but he can't quite keep his true feelings out of his question.

 

After Kent takes a photo with Jack's friend (Eric, but call me Bitty), he and Jack go up to Jack's room to talk. Kent shuts the door behind them and watches Jack, who sits on his bed with tense shoulders. He doesn't know how to start this conversation. It seems like he'll finally be able to talk with Jack after so many years, but everything he's thought about saying has slipped his mind.

 

"You've, uh, been playing well this season," Jack says finally, meeting Kent's eyes for the first time all night.

 

"You watch my games?" Kent asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

 

"Yeah, sometimes. If the boys are watching, I might watch a period. I saw your hatty against Calgary last month. The second goal was pretty impressive."

 

"Wow, that's high praise coming from you," Kent replies, somewhat sarcastically as he's feeling more confident about the conversation.

 

"Yeah, well." Jack pauses, sighing. "Why are you here, Parse?"

 

Kent wipes his hands on his jeans. "Word is you're going to sign pretty soon. Any idea where?"

 

"I... no, not really."

 

"Really, you have no clue?"

 

"I mean... It could be Montreal, it could be LA, okay? I don't know."

 

"...What about Las Vegas?"

 

Jack sighs again, standing up slowly. Kent takes a step towards him. This is his chance, if he can just…

 

"I... I don't _know_ , okay?" Jack grits out, not looking at him.

 

Kent closes the distance between them, looking up at Jack. They look at each other for a few moments, and Kent bites his lip and lunges upwards to meet Jack's lips with his own. Jack freezes, too startled to kiss back. He puts a hand on Kent's chest, pushing him away.

 

"Pars—" Jack starts, but Kent surges forwards again, and this time, Jack kisses him back.

 

They make out for a few minutes, which ends with Kent pressing Jack against the door, and for a moment, Kent thinks everything is going to work out.

 

Jack pushes him off again. "—Kenny... I can't do this."

 

" _Jack, come on._ " Kent knows he's whining, but he can't help it.

 

Jack steps out from where Kent had pushed him, shaking his head. "No, I— ... _uh_."

 

Kent tries to kiss him again, but Jack keeps him firmly at arm's length. " _Kenny_ —"

 

He backs down at last, unable to stop the anger from flaring up inside him. He'd thought that kissing Jack would remind him of how amazing their second year together in the Q had been, but he's beginning to think that Jack has moved on, as if the lack of communication hadn't been enough.

 

"— _Zimms_ , just fucking _stop thinking_ for once and listen to me. I'll tell the GMs you're on board and they can free up cap space. Then you can be _done_ with this shitty team. You and me—" Kent gets louder as he goes on. He knows his anger is becoming irrational, but he can't control it.

 

"Get out."

 

"—Jack..." Kent takes a step back, feeling like he's been hit by a train, or at the very least a large defenseman.

 

"You can't— you don't come to my fucking school unannounced—"

 

"Because you shut me out—"

 

They're both shouting now, with no regard for what the other is saying, so they're yelling over each other, and the words are a tangle of emotions.

 

"—and corner me in my room—"

 

"—Fuck, Jack!! We're soulmates, why can't you—"

 

"—and expect me to—" Jack cuts himself off, apparently having heard what Kent just said. "Wait, Kenny, you... you think we're soulmates?"

 

Kent gapes at him. "I— of course we are, I've been able to Smell you ever since we met."

 

He watches Jack's expression change from confusion to sympathy, which only makes him feel  more lost. Why the fuck is this news to Jack? He knows they didn't talk about it, but…

 

"Kenny..." Jack says like a doctor about to tell him he's got terminal cancer, "We're not soulmates. I can't Smell you, I never have."

 

Something in Kent's mind shatters. "I— huh. Well, shit, okay. Then I guess it doesn't matter where you sign, does it? So go ahead and sign with the Falconers. Then I can finally stop trying to prove that I deserved to go first, because you'll be proving it for me."

 

"...Get out of my room."

 

"Fine, shut me out again."

 

" _Leave_ , Parse."

 

Kent opens the door, ready to stalk out of the frat with at least some shred of dignity left, but the kid from earlier (Bitty?) is on the floor in the hallway, and has probably heard everything. Great, just what he needs.

 

He clears his throat. "Well. Call me if you reconsider or whatever."

 

Kent shoves his hat back on and leaves the frat as quickly as possible. Luckily, no one tries to talk to him on his way out. Probably because he can't be bothered with his media smile at the moment. If he gets asked why he left the party looking so upset, well, he can say he's disappointed that he lost at flip cup.

 

Kent doesn't let himself break down until he's safely back in his hotel room in Boston. He can't believe he'd said those things to Jack... He'd gone to Samwell to recruit him, not to drive him away even further. And he hadn't imagined that he'd find out they weren't soulmates... It's true that the Smell wasn't ever as strong as everyone said it was, but he never thought it could mean that they weren't soulmates. In fact, the only examples of unrequited soulmates he's heard of are in soap operas. It takes him three hours, two glasses of warm milk, and one play-through of his favorite Britney playlist before he finally manages to fall asleep.

 

*****

 

The week leading up to the Aces' first game against the Falconers of the season is tense. Kent knows his past with Jack is a topic of particular interest with the media, but really, there's only so many times he can tell them that the Aces prepare to face teams as a whole, not individual players. It's gotten to the point where Swoops, Norty, and Froster mouth along with his answer from across the locker room,  and it's become something of a running joke.

 

As they're lacing up for the Falcs game, Norty calls across the room, "Yo, Froster! You worried about Spencer? Hit Jenny pretty hard last time, eh?"

 

"Nah, Norts, I prepare for teams as a whole, not individual players, you know? My strategy is for teams' defense, not players, and I stick to that," Froster says, mock-seriously, and glances at Kent as he finishes.

 

Kent rolls his eyes. "Come on, boys, let's focus on the game, shall we?"

 

"But Parser, we _are_ focusing on the game, just the Falcs as a whole and not specif—" Froster begins to protest, but thankfully Mitchy elbows him to shut him up.

 

Kent skates out first, trying his best to avoid looking at the sea of Falconers blue and gold in the stands. The Aces aren't the most popular team in Providence; hardly any of their fans seem to be in the audience.

 

After warm-ups, Kent gets in position to the left of Mitchy for the starting faceoff against Jack, and the game begins. They're scoreless after the first period, but by the end of the second, they're up 2-1. Kent had scored the first goal of the game, a truly beautiful wrister that had gone in between Snowden's glove and his leg pad. The third is uneventful until the last few minutes.

 

Jack wins a faceoff against Mitchy in the Falcs' zone and sends it back to Fitzgerald, who passes it back to Jack to get the puck back into the neutral zone. Kent tries to get in front of Jack to stop him, but he's too fast, and manages to send the puck into the net above Johnny's right shoulder. Shit.

 

Kent knows, logically, that it doesn't really matter if they lose this game, but he just can't take a loss right now, not against Jack. He takes as many shifts as Kirkland'll let him, and calls for the puck as often as he's reasonably sure that he'll be able to get it.

 

Finally, with twenty seconds left on the clock, he gets the puck past Snowden, but he falls and his momentum takes the net out. Kent blinks, and suddenly finds himself buried under half a dozen players, among them Snowden, Jack, and Swoops. He lets the insults from the Falcs roll of his back, but suddenly he's being lifted out of the pile by the back of his jersey, and Mashkov is shouting unintelligible Russian in his ear.

 

He can't even focus on what Mashkov is saying once he switches to English, though, because as he glances over his shoulder, he's hit by a wall of Scent and falls to his knees as he's dropped. Mashkov skates off with Robinson, and Kent is approached by one of the Aces' trainers.

 

He does his best to assure the trainers that he's fine, but he can't help being distracted by the Smell. It's not Jack's; this Smell is much stronger, and he can't ignore it like he could with Jack's Scent. This Smell smells like fresh snow, camomile, ginger, coconut, and pine. Even after he skates to the bench, he must look a little shaken, because Kirkland doesn't put him back in for the remainder of the game.

 

The Smell is so overpowering that Kent has a hard time properly appreciating that his goal has been ruled a good goal by the officials. He finds himself smiling anyway, though, because somehow, this new Smell is even better than Jack's had been.

 

Kent's grinning as the Aces go back through the tunnel to the visitors' locker room. Several of his teammates slap him on the back, and he's pretty sure Swoops slaps his ass. He doesn't even mind, because they _won_ . He was able to beat Jack in the first game they ever played against each other. Yeah, he told the media that they focused on strategies to beat teams, not players, but this was _Jack_.

 

Around him, his teammates congratulate each other on a well-fought game. After he takes off his jersey in preparation for the media scrum, he clears his throat to get everyone's attention.

 

"Great fucking game, boys! Jenny had a beaut of an assist on Heller's goal, and seems like Froster's, uh, "strategy" worked out for him, maybe he should listen to his captain more often," Kent says, smirking at Froster.

 

The boys cheer, and Norty slaps Froster's back. Everyone quiets down as the media enters the room, which allows Kent to focus on the Smell. It's still far stronger than Jack's Scent had ever been, but it's slightly weaker now that he's not on the ice anymore. His best guess is that his soulmate is Mashkov, as he smelled the Scent when he'd picked him up, but Mashkov hadn't seemed overly fond of him. Kent hopes this isn't going to be another unrequited situation, but given his track record, he isn't entirely optimistic.

 

He gives the media the answers they want to hear: he's pleased with his two goals, he's proud of his teammates, he didn't mean to rush Snowden, and yes, it was great to play on the same ice as Jack. Thankfully, his voice doesn't waver like it had the first time the media had asked about him.

 

Kent leaves the rink with a smile on his face.

 

*****

 

That night, Kent decides to take a walk around Providence before he has to get back to the Aces' hotel for curfew. The Memorial Park is across the river from both the Dunkin' Donuts Center and the Omni Providence Hotel, and it has a good path that goes along the river.

 

He's walking on this path when he gets strong whiff of the Smell. Of course, still being in the same city, the Smell hasn't had much of a chance to change in intensity, but this is almost as strong as it had been when Mashkov had picked him up. Kent pauses, glancing around but not seeing anyone. He frowns.

 

"Parson," a voice calls from somewhere on his right, causing him to nearly jump about a foot in the air.

 

Turning towards the voice, he sees a man sitting on a bench that faces the water. The man isn't looking at him, so how did he know who Kent is? It's not as if he has particularly recognizable footsteps.

 

"Uh... I don't— who are you? How do you know who I am?" he asks, hesitant to go sit next to some stranger, especially in Providence.

 

"Everybody know who you are. Kent Parson, famous hockey player, no?" the man replies.

 

"I— wait, _Mashkov_?" Kent asks, incredulous.

 

Kent knows this voice. It's memorable, especially since it's the same voice that had yelled at him only a few hours earlier.

 

"Yes. Sit," Mashkov says impatiently.

 

Kent sits down on the opposite side of the bench as Mashkov. He may be curious what he wants, but he's not stupid. He knows Mashkov wasn't praising his scoring ability in Russian, after all.

 

"Very dangerous play," Mashkov says, still not looking at him. "Could have hurt Snowy, could have hurt you too. What trainers say? Are you hurt?"

 

Kent is perplexed by this. Does Mashkov actually _care_ about him? "Uh, no, I'm not hurt. It was just— Wait, hang on, Mashkov, why do you care? I thought I was a ‘dirty rat’ for rushing your goalie."

 

"You’re soulmate, have to care. Even if not want."

 

" _Soulmate?!_ What? You can Smell me?"

 

Finally, Mashkov looks at Kent. "Yes. In 2012, west coast roadie. We play Aces and I try check you, but you so fast, you know? Avoid check, and suddenly I'm Smell, need rest on bench. After game, I'm thinking must be Ace, right, I spend so long with Falcs, would have Smelled by now. Then we go to bar in Vegas, see Aces, and we talk. But not sure it's you until All-Star weekend. You only Ace on Pacific team, and still I Smell."

 

"Why didn't you say anything?" Kent asks, but he has a feeling he already knows the answer.

 

"Not want rejection. You never act like you Smell me, so I don't say either."

 

"Oh. I... Shit, I didn't know. I mean, I always thought you hated me."

 

"I not hate you, Kent. Easier, maybe, to hate you, but you’re soulmate. Can't hate even if I try."

 

The use of his first name startles him. He swallows, and turns towards Mashkov. Kent knows what he means about being unable to hate his soulmate; even though he'd tried, he'd never been able to hate Jack. Even though they weren't soulmates.

 

"What... what do I Smell like?" Kent asks quietly.

 

Mashkov smiles fondly. "Roses, watermelon, bonfire, caramel, and cedar wood. Very good, like candle."

 

Kent laughs, unable to stop himself. They smile at each other.

 

"Shit, I'd buy that candle. You Smell good too. It's like... fresh snow, camomile, ginger, coconut, and pine? Straight out of Yankee Candle."

 

Mashkov stops smiling. "You... Smell me too?"

 

"Yeah? I thought I’d said. During the pile up, when you picked me up. The trainers were actually checking me out because I was so surprised by how strong it is. Shit, how have you been doing this since 2012?" Kent replies.

 

Mashkov's— _Alexei's_ smile returns, brighter than ever. "Not so bad when you're in Vegas. You happy being soulmates?"

 

Kent thinks about it for a minute, though he doesn't really have to. Of course he's happy; he finally has a soulmate who is able to return his feelings. It's by no means love at first sight, but already, Alexei is making him happier than he's felt in years.

 

"Yeah, I'm... Really fucking happy, you have no idea," he says. "I actually thought I had a soulmate before you? The Smell wasn't this strong, but... I don't know. I really thought we were it. He didn't, though. He couldn't Smell me."

 

"Oh, котенок," Alexei says sadly.

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"Text me, I tell you then, yes?"

 

"Uh, okay," he says, and then checks his watch. "Shit, wait, I need to get back to my hotel. Curfew started like, ten minutes ago."

 

"I know this, is why I ask for number," Alexei says, grinning and pulling out his phone.

 

They swap phones, and Kent enters his number. When he gets his phone back, Alexei's put himself in as "Alyosha" and a heart emoji.

 

Kent looks back up at him, and confusion is clearly showing on his face, because Alexei says, "Is nickname! Like Kenny!"

 

Kent smiles and stands. Alexei follows suit and they stand awkwardly for a moment before Alexei pulls him into a tight hug.

 

"Okay, I'll text you? We play Boston tomorrow, but we could hang out before my pre-game nap?" Kent asks as he pulls away.

 

"Yes! Good, see you soon Kenny!"

 

"Yeah, bye Alexei."

 

"Alyosha!"

 

"Right, Alyosha," Kent tries, probably mangling the pronunciation.

 

Alexei seems happy anyways, though, so they part ways for the night.

 

Well, Kent thinks as he falls asleep, he'll have plenty of time to get the pronunciation right. Maybe even the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope i've done entirely_too_tall's prompt justice! i also included some aces shenanigans, lol. also!! i hope it doesn't seem like i'm ignoring tater's canon feelings on kent? i just chose to interpret what we've seen about them differently. also, here's a list of people i refer to in the fic/don't fully name in case that's confusing for anyone:
> 
> Mitchy- James Mitchell, center, Aces  
> Norty/Norts- Mike Norton, winger, Aces  
> Froster- Mark Frost, defense, Aces  
> Johnny- John Baker, goalie, Aces  
> Heller- Valentin Hellström, center, Aces  
> Swoops- Jeff Troy, winger, Aces  
> Jenny- Henry Jensen, defense, Aces  
> Kirkland- Chance Kirkland, Aces head coach  
> Spencer- Daniel Spencer, defense, Falcs  
> Snowden- Snowy, goalie, Falcs  
> Fitzgerald- Poots, winger probably, Falcs  
> Mashkov- Tater (obviously), defense, Falcs  
> Robinson- Thirdy, defense, Falcs  
> Santa- Tony Santora, Oceanic  
> Atkins- Ted Atkins, forward, Oceanic  
> Bazarov- Alex Bazarov, forward, Oceanic  
> Whittaker- Jeremy Whittaker, goalie, Oceanic  
> Coach Dawes- Oceanic coach  
> Durands- Sylvia and Ronald Durand, billet family (they have two sons)  
> Sophie- Sophia Parson! Kent’s little sister, she’s ~5/6 years younger than him
> 
> come find me on tumblr at kentvp!


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